Birthday Patrol
by Starsky's Strut
Summary: What harm is there in singing the Happy Birthday song?


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**Warnings:** A few bad words and some off-key singing.

This snippet was inspired by some discussions on the Yahoo shgfanfic group. No harm to anyone is intended; it's all for fun. Not beta-ed, sorry for any errors!

**Birthday Patrol  
**By Starsky's Strut

Dobey, Hutch and Starsky were sitting in a booth at the Pits. A small cake sat before them. The cake was chocolate with chocolate frosting and a handful of candles burned merrily on top of the cake.

Starsky leaned in and sniffed at it, inhaling the mixture of chocolate cake and burning candles, "Is there any finer scent in the world then birthday cake?"

Dobey grunted in agreement and added "With vanilla ice cream beside it…" He closed his eyes and inhaled as well, a blissful expression on his face.

"Oh yeah…" Starsky agreed as he too got a blissful look.

"Will you two stop sniffing my cake, please? You're acting like children, it's embarrassing." Hutch scanned the room to see if anyone else had noticed his friends' childish behavior.

Starsky opened his eyes and grinned over at his partner, "What's the fun of being grown up if you can't act childish sometimes? Hmmm?"

A blond eyebrow winged upwards, "You just said it Stark, 'sometimes'. You don't act childish _sometimes_; you do it all the time. Like now, I came here for a quiet birthday beer –your treat - and now I'm sitting here watching you two sniffing my cake like a pair of hound dogs after a raccoon."

Starsky's smile widened, "How about a pair of hound dogs after a chocolate cake, with chocolate frosting, with candles on top?"

"With vanilla ice cream on the side." Dobey added as he adjusted the napkin under his chin.

"With vanilla ice cream on the side." Starsky acknowledged, nodding in agreement.

Hutch rolled his eyes "Dogs aren't suppose to have chocolate, it's bad for them."

The brunet shrugged, "Good, that means there's more for us… besides it sounds more appetizing than raccoon."

"Have you ever eaten raccoon? Maybe it's good." The blond said in a superior tone.

"If you gonna try to tell me that it tastes just like chicken..." Starsky warned, "Our partnership is over." He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his friend.

"Huggy, get over here with that ice cream!" Dobey hollered.

The partners gave him a look.

"What? I'm hungry. Besides, if I have to listen to you two bicker over raccoon and how it tastes, you're going to ruin my appetite." Dobey grunted.

"Well, there's a first time for everything." Hutch smirked, but it faded quickly at a sharp kick to his shinbone. "Ouch! Cap, what was that for?" he rubbed the injured leg and gave his superior a hurt look.

Dobey glared at him.

Hutch looked away.

"Here you go my fine friends! The finest vanilla ice cream I could buy." Huggy announced as he approached the table, he presented it with flourish and set it down.

"Oh boy!" Starsky's smile broadened to full wattage "Finally! Now, we can sing you Happy Birthday buddy. Okay everybody, all together now… Happy Birthday to you-"

"NO!" Huggy, Dobey along with several patrons at the bar bellowed the word, cutting Starsky off mid song.

All around them, people began gathering up their belongings and dashing for the door. In short order, the formally packed room had cleared out, save for the friends and one lone drunk slumped over a table in the back of the bar.

Dobey, now visibly pale, pulled the napkin out from under his chin and dropped it on the table. "I gotta go home now." His voice dropped to a whisper "Happy birthday Hutchinson." He glanced around the room as though looking for something or someone, and then he too, broke for the door.

Starsky slowly closed his gaping jaw, "What the hell just happened? My singing ain't that bad… is it?" He cast a pleading look at both Hutch and Huggy.

"Weeelllll…" Hutch began.

"It ain't that, Starsky… it's… it's…" The bar owner interrupted as he hooked a finger in his shirt collar and tugged at it, trying to loosen it from around his neck. The whites of his eyes showed clear around his irises.

The partners exchanged a deeply concerned look and moved closer to their informant friend.

Hutch gently gripped the man's elbow and eased him onto a nearby chair; he could feel a slight quiver in Huggy's arm as he did so. Whatever this was about clearly spooked the man.

Starsky pulled up a chair and drew near, determined to find out what was causing this behavior, this level of fear. "Go ahead Huggy, you can tell us."

Huggy nervously glanced around the room, once satisfied that they were alone, save for the out-cold drunk in the corner. He waved them in close and whispered "It's the Birthday Patrol… they're cracking down on the use of the Happy Birthday song…" He closed his eyes and long shiver quaked his frame… "It – it happened to me… here, just last week… they're everywhere… they know… I don't know how… but they always know…"

Huggy looked over at the drunk, "Maybe he's one of them… maybe you're one of them…" He stood up and backed away from them. "Just take your cake and go… leave, now. And for God's sake, don't sing that song! It's not worth it… God, I can't get that picture out of my head!" He exited into his office and slammed the door shut.

The partners exchanged a confused look.

"Birthday Patrol?" They spoke in unison.

Hutch shook his head and took a long look at the empty room. "There must be something to it… something we don't know yet." He waved a hand at the vacant bar. "Something that they obviously _do_ know."

"I think Huggy's cracking up." Starsky blew out the candles on the small cake and placed the plastic lid back over it. "Let's go to my place Hutch, I just bought a six pack the other day."

XXXX

Starsky set the cake down on the table and fetched two beers from his refrigerator. "Here ya go partner… here is your birthday beer, as promised."

They clanked the bottles together and drank them down in comfortable silence.

"Now, where were we? Oh yeah… I was about to sing you Happy Birthday… Happy Birthday to you-"

"Starsk, stop. Wait a minute… what if; what if there is something to that Birthday Patrol thing? I've never seen Dobey so frightened… hell, all those people were so scared they left the bar… on a Friday night, hours before closing."

"Maybe they didn't want to pay their bar tab." Starsky chuckled.

"C'mon Starsk, think about it… all of those people, acting that strangely? There has to be something to it."

"Hutch, we are in the privacy of my apartment. No Birthday Patrol is gonna hear me singing you the Birthday song… Unless you just don't wanna hear me sing… that's it, ain't it?" The brunet's lower lip pouted out, a hurt expression crossed his face.

"Yeah… perhaps, then again…" The blond looked nervous, "all those people…"

"Oh fine… into the closet."

"What?"

"Just get in my closet, okay?" Starsky grabbed the cake, a lighter and followed his friend into the closet. Once inside, he closed the door and sat down on the floor across from his friend. He re-lit the stubby candles.

"Starsk, this is ridiculous-"

"So is the Birthday Patrol… and the fact that birthday cake is the only cake that someone spits all over as they blow out the candles, but everyone still wants a piece of… go figure. Now let me sing you the song and we can get out of the closet." The brunet did just that, very quietly.

Hutch quickly blew out the candles.

The closet doors burst open and the duo were faced with a dozen naked men pointing guns at them.

Starsky stood up, "What the-"

"In the name of the Birthday Patrol… Outta the closet... NOW!" One of the naked men bellowed, "You can't hide from the Birthday Patrol!"

The two came out of the closet, dazed expressions on their faces, they traded a look before turning back to the spectacle of a dozen bare naked men filling up the small apartment.

"Wha-" Hutch cleared his throat and tried again, "What do you want?"

"Royalties,"

"Royalties? For what?" An exasperated Starsky snapped.

"For the use of the Birthday song, pay up and we'll be leaving." The big naked man snapped his fingers, "Chop, chop… we ain't got all night… do you know how many people right now- who are getting away with singing this song and not paying for it? It's ridiculous! We're putting a stop to it, it's our job!" The man puffed out his chest proudly. "Now fork over the dough!" he put out his hand, palm up and shook it.

"I thought that song was public domain… that anyone could sing it." The brunet's tone was puzzled.

The naked men all laughed.

"That's what everybody thinks, George, show him the form." The original speaker said.

Starsky and Hutch read the legal form quickly.

"How much?" Starsky managed to ask, his eyes darting from one naked man to the next. He then noticed that they were all wearing black wingtip shoes and black socks; he shook his head in disbelief at the whole event. And their poor fashion sense… everybody knew you didn't were black socks with shoes if you were naked.

The first speaker quoted a very low price and Starsky handed the few coins over, "That's not very much money."

"It adds up. Nice doing business with you boys… Oh, and I'd stay out of closets if I were you, if you don't want people getting the wrong idea about you two, that is. Or maybe you do… it's all the same to me." The man shrugged and motioned to the rest of the naked patrol, they filed out of the apartment quietly.

Hutch sat down on the couch and slowly tore the label off of his beer. "That is the craziest thing I've ever seen… and the craziest thing I've ever heard of… someone owns the Birthday song…" the blond locks swayed as he shook his head. "I can see why Huggy and the rest were acting so weird…" He rubbed the palms of his hands in his eyes, "Now I can't get the sight out of my head... Why do you suppose they were naked?"

"They weren't naked Hutch." Starsky said softly as he sat beside his friend and handed him another beer.

"Shoes and socks don't count, Starsk," the blond snorted.

Starsky rolled his eyes, "Don't you get it Hutch? What else would the Birthday Patrol wear but their _birthday suits_."

"Very funny."

"I thought so. Hey, I just had another funny thought…" Starsky looked at the closed and locked door of his apartment, "where do you suppose they keep their guns?"

"Eeew!" The duo shuddered.

Starsky looked at the wall clock, mere seconds remained to his best friend's birthday. A wicked grin formed on his face, "Hutch?"

"Yeah?"

"Happy Birthday to you… Happy Birthday to you-"

"STARSKY!"

**The End**


End file.
